


For a Good Cause

by Lohrendrell



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Crossdressing, Girl Scouts, Humor, M/M, Naruto Crack Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lohrendrell/pseuds/Lohrendrell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasuke is convinced by his brother and his niece to join them in a door-to-door girl scouts cookies sale. He just wasn't expecting, one: having to wear the girl scouts uniform; two: meeting his childhood friend while wearing said uniform.</p>
<p>Well, fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For a Good Cause

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miasen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miasen/gifts).



> I went with her common pairing Sasuke/Naruto and followed the prompt “Character A is selling girl scout cookies. In a girl scout uniform. Character B either joins him, or is the one A tries to sell to.” Why not both, and maybe a little something else? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“I hate you for this.”

“Why, little brother.” Itachi tried to sound innocent, but the smirk gave him away. “Don’t feel bad. It’s for a good cause.”

“Good cause? I can understand good cause when it’s in front of me, but this?!” Sasuke frantically gestured at his garments: a brown and green girls scouts uniform, thematic hat, flared skirt and all. “How can this be for a good cause?!”

“Y’know. Solidarity. Goodwill. And all that.”

No matter how much Sasuke glared at him, Itachi’s smirk never left that smug face. “Oh, you are having fun with this, aren’t you?”

Itachi didn’t answer him — he didn’t need to, his broad smirk was telling enough. He didn’t even look like he was dressed the same as Sasuke, his long hair pulled in high messy pigtails that his own daughter had combed. He turned around and grabbed one of the two red pushcarts filled with boxes of cookies. “Sachiko,” he called, “come on, it’s time to go.”

Sasuke’s niece came downstairs in a flash, fast and loud like a hurricane of brown and green, the colours of the Leaf Scouts. Her excitement was visible in her big, shiny eyes and her wide smile. It was her first year in the girl scouts, and the first time she would try to sell cookies door to door to pay for their traditional trip to the lakes in the summer. Sasuke thought her enthusiasm was understandable. Both him and Itachi had been boy scouts when they were around her age, and, much like her, every year they walked around with their group of friends with nothing more than a bunch of cookies and cute faces that certainly assured them the oh so expected summer trip. Summer seemed to last forever, back in the day, Sasuke reminisced quietly, fond of those memories.

They didn’t have, however, at the time, to wear skirts and pigtails, and therefore Sasuke could not bring himself to share his niece’s enthusiasm right now.

“Are we ready yet? Can we go?” Sachiko asked as soon as she reached them. She was practically jogging, the little girl, her hair combed just like his father’s, though her pigtails were much more tidy.

“Did you leave your phone behind?” Itachi asked her, and when she nodded and said yes, Sasuke took it as a confirmation that she was _really_ excited. Nothing seemed to take the girl away from her damn phone these days. “All right,” her father said, “let’s go, then.”

“Yes!” Sachiko yelled, nearly euphoric, barreling through the front door ahead of them. Itachi laughed at his little girl’s antics. Sasuke, though he sincerely thought his niece was nothing less than adorable, wasn’t exactly prepared to let go of his scowl.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Sasuke asked, pushing the other cart, as Itachi locked the door to his house. How had his brother convinced him to do this again? Oh, right, he used Sachiko (Sachiko’s pouting and her cute little sweet girl pleading face, to be more precise).

Itachi didn’t answer him. Sasuke didn’t think he would.

The first house they stopped at was just next door. Itachi’s neighbor, the old lady (that Sasuke, try as he might, could never remember the name) was clearly torn between amusement and discomfort when she saw, first, the little girl scout, then the two grown men crossdressing behind her.

“Cookies, Mr. Wahner?” (Oh yes, that was her name. Sasuke made a mental note to remember it.) “We have chocolate chips, coconut cookies, lemonade, uh… shortbread…” Sachiko was counting with her fingers as she named all the flavors; she looked back at the cart her father was pushing, as if trying to search for the names she had forgotten.

“Peanut butter,” Itachi provided for her, slowly.

“Right. Yeah.” Sachiko turned back to Ms. Wahner. “Peanut butter patties, thin mints, tagalongs…” She paused again, counted her fingers once more, and then gave up. She looked up at the old lady and gave her one of those sweet Sachiko smiles, which was quickly becoming her trademark. “Just fifteen dollars a box, please.”

Both Sasuke and Itachi had to restrain themselves from laughing. Sasuke was sure Sachiko had forgotten at least half a dozen flavours, along with introducing herself and the Leaf Girl Scouts properly, but he let it slide. He would make sure to refine his niece’s marketing skills throughout the afternoon.

Her tricks did the work, though. Ms. Wahner bought six boxes. (Sasuke was almost sure they shouldn’t have allowed the old lady — who might have diabetes — buy that many, but if Itachi, who was her neighbor, didn’t seem to care, neither would he.)

“Yay!” Sachiko yelled as they left Ms. Wahner’s porch when Itachi congratulated her on her first sale and commanded Sasuke to take a picture of them. Sasuke didn’t comment on how ridiculous his brother looked with those pigtails and that much too short skirt above those muscular, hairy legs. He looked happy, and Sasuke was many things, but not a killjoy (well, not his brother’s and his niece’s, at least).

And so they strolled through their neighborhood, knocking door to door to sell cookies.

Thankfully, both Sasuke and Itachi had grown up in that same neighborhood, so most of the community already knew them. That, and they weren’t the only ones trying to sell cookies in that afternoon.

(But they certainly were the only ones dressed the same as their little girl, which was most definitely drawing a considerable amount of attention — more than what Sasuke could bring himself to enjoy.)

“Seriously, Itachi, fuck you,” Sasuke whispered, loud enough that Itachi would hear him, but Sachiko wouldn’t. Itachi just laughed out loud, clearly enjoying himself and Sasuke’s discomfort, and Sasuke swore right there and then that he had a demon for a brother. It was the only explanation!

Sachiko, much like her father, was delighted with the entire experience. They paused every other door to coach her, tell her what to say and how to say it, and go through the whole list of flavours until she decorated them all. The nine-year-old was truly her father’s daughter (and her uncle’s niece, of course), taking all their tips to heart and learning very fast.

In less than two hours they had covered half of the neighborhood, which was pretty fast, if Sasuke’s memories of the long afternoons it took him and his peers to sell just a few boxes were accurate. Between coaching Sachiko and pausing to eternize the day in pictures, at least half of the boxes in one of the pushcarts had been sold.

Sachiko was quite impressive, Sasuke thought, pride filling his entire being. Of course she was.

Soon they started covering the second half of the neighborhood, down the hill, just a few blocks away from what were still considered the new streets, where Itachi was currently living.

That vicinity was more on the traditional side, with houses of old architecture, resembling those typical swedish homes often shown in television programmes and carpentry magazines. They had grown up there, Sasuke and Itachi; their parents’ old house was the third one on the fourth street after the old, disabled water tank. Though old, the house still held the red and white in its outer walls, and when they passed in front of it, Sasuke thought it looked so… small.

Sasuke hadn’t walked in those streets in a long time, probably since, what, middle school?

Still, everything he laid eyes upon, coupled with the sound of the pushcarts dragging across the sidewalks and the everlasting presence of cookies, gave him a welcome sense of nostalgia. He used to know this neighborhood like the palm of his hand, always running around with other kids, playing, starting fights, competitions and generally making a mess of everything.

Good times.

Distracted, Sasuke let himself be led by the sweet little girl and the grown up demon, allowing his mind to reminisce for a while as he enjoyed the brief sightseeing. He remembered those old houses, especially the pink one with the large window sills, where Ms. Mary would always leave a hot pie for them to eat in the afternoons.

He remembered that big oak tree; it still held parts of a tree house, a secret haven Sasuke had once shared with more or less twenty other children.

He remembered that old playground right next to — what was his name? The old vietnamese man with scars from when he fought the war. Most of the kids were afraid of him, except for Sasuke and that other boy. They would always talk to the old man, and he was never mean to them — that was when Sasuke learned to not trust other people’s fallacies and judgements.

Sasuke remembered him, as well. The boy with yellow hair that lived in the orange house. His friend-cum-rival, his constant companion when he was a kid. A loud, sometimes annoying but always adventurous little boy that always managed to drag Sasuke into his crazy ideas.

He was one of the best companies Sasuke had in childhood; too bad they grew up, life happened and they lost touch. What was his name again?

Sasuke woke up from his reveries when he realized he had been dragged in front of an orange house that resembled a lot that one where his childhood friend lived. For a moment, he felt somewhat excited at the prospect of finding out who was living there now, but it lasted short, as he also realized that there was the possibility that the same people lived there. Which, in turn, meant Sasuke was knocking on his childhood friend’s door dressed in a girls scout uniform.

His eyes widened, but before he could do or say anything, Sachiko was already climbing the three steps in the front porch and ringing the bell.

Not ten seconds later Sasuke heard and watched as the doorknob rattled and the white door opened. He looked around, desperation quickly climbing its way up his body, but it was too late, there was nothing he could do, nowhere he could run to in time. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

A blond person opened the door. Sachiko, seeing him, immediately started the speech they had been practicing all afternoon.

“Good morning! My name is Sachiko from the Leaf Girl Scouts. I’m selling cookies in this lovely afternoon so we can pay for out trip to the lakes this summer. We have chocolate crispy chips, coconut cookies, cranberry citrus crisps, peanut butter sandwiches, thin mints, thanks-a-lots, shortbreads, lemonades, tagalongs and even dulce de leche! If you buy even one box of cookies, you’re not only helping us with our trip, but you’ll be helping nature as well, as we will make sure to plant dozens of trees in there! Fifteen dollars a box, please.”

The blond watched Sachiko throughout the speech, but soon his eyes drifted to the two crossdressing men behind her. It only took a look for Sasuke to recognize him. He tried to avoid eye contact, look around and pretend he wasn’t him, he wasn’t there, but, “Sasuke?” came the gasped question as soon as the person stepped out of the house, and yeah, Sasuke was pretty fucked now.

“Sasuke?” The boy — man now, actually (and quite a man, Sasuke couldn’t help noticing; full-blown into a nice, toned body, muscles in all the right places) — in the orange house asked. “No way. I can’t believe that’s you!”

“Ah,” Itachi said when Sasuke didn’t speak, “I think I remember you. That little boy that always ran around with Sasuke… Naruto, correct?”

“Yeah,” he answered Itachi, though his gaze lingered on Sasuke’s for a couple of moments before he turned to the other man. “I’m Naruto.” (Mental note!) “And if this is Sasuke, you must be his scary older brother Itachi, right? I remember you!”

Itachi smiled, lifting his hand. “It’s good to see you,” he said, polite as always, as they shook hands.

“It’s good to see you too,” Naruto agreed. “And let me tell you, Itachi, I’m happy that you don’t look so scary anymore. Especially with that outfit!” He snickered at his own joke. Sasuke felt somewhat annoyed, and he thought Itachi would be, too, but all his brother did was laugh a little.

“The joys of fatherhood,” Itachi told him, good humoredly.

“So.” Naruto turned to Sachiko, who had been watching the exchange in silence. He crouched to her level. “You are selling cookies, huh?” He gave her a big, shiny — and quite beautiful — smile (something that Sasuke felt he should have expected, but still caught him by surprise).

Sachiko, despite being usually a very shy girl that had an incredible reluctance to talk to strangers, immediately smiled back at Naruto. “Yeah! Daddy and Sa-chan are part of my team! We’re selling them for the girl scouts trip to the lakes in the summer. Just fifteen dollars a box.”

“Sa-chan,” Naruto murmured, his eyes drifting to Sasuke again — roaming head to toe, lingering a bit on Sasuke’s outfit, he noticed — before focusing on Sachiko once more. She had started the whole presentation again.

“We have chocolate crispy chips, coconut cookies, cranberry citrus crisps, peanut butter sand—”

“All right, all right,” Naruto laughed, interrupting Sachiko. “I want, uh… peanut butter, I guess. And dulce de leche.” He turned to Sasuke again, his eyes glinting with mirth as he smiled. “How many do you recommend… Sa-chan?”

Sasuke felt his whole face and ears warming up — in anger, definitely; not embarrassment. Not. At. All.

“You can buy as many as you’d like,” Itachi answered when Sasuke didn’t, at the same time Sachiko yelled, “Twenty!”

“Twenty?” Naruto asked, feigning astonishment. “But that is just too many for just one person!”

“Then you can just share with your parents.” Sachiko shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious reasoning and only Naruto couldn’t see it.

Naruto laughed. “All right, then. But not twenty, just two. Fine, two of each.”

Both of the flavours he had chosen were in the cart Sasuke was pushing, and Sachiko hurried to him to give her Naruto’s order. Sasuke didn’t look up, but he was sure, he could _feel_ deep blue eyes staring at him as he crouched down with his mini skirt to grab the damn cookie boxes (why were those flavours exactly in the bottom of the damn cart, anyway?!).

After Sachiko delivered the order and received her payment — Naruto, like most of their customers of the day, complained of the price, and though it annoyed him, Sasuke couldn’t say he disagreed; he didn’t remember those cookies being so expensive when they were children — Naruto crouched to her level again.

“I’ll tell you what,” he told Sachiko. “How about I help you sell your cookies, then? I know a lot of old folks who most definitely shouldn’t be eating none of these delicacies, so they’ll beat each other up for the chance to buy a few.” He laughed at his own joke.

“Really?” Sachiko’s eyes glistened. She immediately turned to Itachi. “Can we, dad, can we? Please, please, please!”

“You are talking about the nursing home near the highway?” Itachi asked Naruto, who nodded.

“I volunteer there some weekends. Was just on my way there when you guys got here.”

Itachi thought this through for half a minute, eyeing Sasuke, then his daughter, then the blond man. “Fine,” he finally said.

Sachiko yelled in happiness, already bouncing in front of Naruto. One more minute and Sasuke was sure she was going to regress to her three-year-old self (also known as her down-with-a-cold self) and ask to be lifted up in Naruto’s arms. Which was surprising, if not unsettling; Sachiko never acted like that with any other adult, except for her uncle.

(Sasuke was just mildly jealous.)

And so the four of them went down the street, towards the nursing home that had been there ever since Sasuke was a child. Naruto wasn’t bothered by Sachiko’s insistence to knock on every door they hadn’t already, content in keeping small talk with Itachi (and Sasuke, when he dignified to answer, but mostly Itachi) all the way through.

(And all the way through, Sasuke was pretty sure Naruto was staring — at him or his outfit, Sasuke wasn’t exactly sure; he wouldn’t look back, for all he was worth he would _not_ look back.)

When they got to the nursing home, Sachiko caused as much commotion as her cookies (and her crossdressing bodyguards), as Naruto predicted. The old folks were elated with the cute little girl and her delicacies from heaven, and the nurses in there had to tactically control the sales so as to not let them buy the entirety of the two carts and harm their own health afterwards.

“Heh.” Naruto approached Sasuke after they had been there for a while. “I probably pissed off the entire medical team today.” He was snickering, though, so Sasuke didn’t think it was that much of a big deal.

“You think they’ll allow you to come back after this?”

“Meh.” Naruto shrugged. “Probably. I mean, it’s not like I’m doing anything bad, y’know. Look at those faces.” He pointed at the seniors, laughing as they talked with Sachiko and Itachi and each other. “I hadn’t seen them this happy since, what, grandma day? It’s a good thing.” He crossed his arms, nodding vehemently. “I did a good thing.”

“If you say so.”

They watched the commotion for a few minutes, in silence. Sasuke tried not to think about the fact that he was seeing his childhood friend — that had become quite the attractive man — for the first time in nearly two decades while selling cookies dressed in a girls scout uniform.

That is, until Naruto spoke, “So… If I tell you you’re a good boy and pet your hair, you promise call me daddy and let me cop a feel under your tiny little skirt?”

“What?!”

Sasuke may or may not have shrieked; either way, curious eyes were attracted to where the pair stood, in the corner of the large living room. Naruto chuckled. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

“Tch. Moron.”

Naruto was still laughing. “Though it’s really nice to see you for the first time dressed like that, Sasuke. I mean, really nice.” If Sasuke said Naruto’s gaze on him was suggestive, it would be an understatement.

“What do you mean,” Sasuke said, trying to pretend he didn’t get it, though he felt his whole face, ears and even neck warming up, probably reddening too.

“I mean that I might…” Naruto eyed Sasuke from head to toe, opposite of innocent hunger glinting in his eyes. “...have a thing for men in skirts.”

Sasuke actually gulped. I’m fucked, ain’t I, he thought, only realizing he had actually said it out loud when Naruto chuckled.

“Oh if it’s in any way my call, you’ll be, pretty boy.” He took Sasuke’s hand in his and, pulling a pen out of his pocket, scribbled a number on Sasuke’s wrist. “Call me if you ever want to give it a go… Sasuke.”

The way he said his name, slowly and dragging the syllables, made shivers run up Sasuke’s spine. With that, Naruto walked away, back to the old fellows he had been caring for. 

Sasuke looked at his wrist. Just above the numbers, Naruto scribbled the word ‘daddy’.

Well, fuck.

Sasuke stared down, at the red pushcart with cookie boxed, trying to pretend he wasn’t actually looking forward to it.

(He was pretty sure he failed.)


End file.
